


A Clean Slate

by peek_a_booboo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Bad Humor, Established Relationship, F/M, LJ community: bun in the oven, Panic Attacks, Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Epilogue, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 16:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17429333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peek_a_booboo/pseuds/peek_a_booboo
Summary: A hand grasped his knee tightly, stopping it from bouncing. Draco glanced at Astoria and saw she was eyeing him oddly, almost like he was crazy. Draco snorted at the thought. He wasn’t mental, heknewmental, one look at his family tree would prove his point. No,hewasn’t butshesure was.She was fucking crazy for choosing him.**Astoria is pregnant. Draco is losing it.





	A Clean Slate

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: HP belongs to JK Rowling, I just like to play with the characters.  
> Not beta read.
> 
> Written for [hp-bunintheoven](https://hp-bunintheoven.livejournal.com/) January 2019 prompt, _Discovering the baby’s sex_

Draco fidgeted anxiously in the stiff chair, shifting position every other second in an attempt to get comfortable. There was a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, almost as if a Hippogriff was sitting on it, making breathing extremely difficult. The urge to get up run as fast as his legs could carry him was becoming stronger by the minute, but he knew he couldn’t.

Could he?

He chanced a glance to his right where his wife was reading an ancient Witch Weekly without a care in the world. Or so it seemed. She was likely to make buttons out of his bones if she knew what he was thinking. She’d probably hunt him down and mount his head on her father’s trophy wall if he actually dared to run out on her now. And if she didn’t, Draco was quite sure Daphne would. She had never liked him, him skipping town would give her a good excuse to use an Unforgivable and blame him for it. 

“Certified nutter,” Draco mumbled as he shifted again, leg bopping up and down as he fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. What the fuck had he got himself into? Who would trust him to raise a kid? He’d probably screw it up, even worse than his father had screwed him up. 

“I’m not naming him Lucius,” he muttered again and rubbed his face. His mum would probably skin him alive if he dared to snub his father like that. Family traditions and all that.

A hand grasped his knee tightly, stopping it from bouncing. Draco glanced at Astoria and saw she was eyeing him oddly, almost like he was crazy. Draco snorted at the thought. He wasn’t mental, he _knew_ mental, one look at his family tree would prove his point. No, _he_ wasn’t but _she_ sure was.

She was fucking crazy for choosing him.

“Are you okay?” Astoria asked. “Are you having a panic attack?”

“No,” Draco snapped. He was lying, of course. He was on the verge of hyperventilating, and his heart was beating so rapidly against his ribcage that Draco feared it might actually make a break for it. But instead of telling her that, he said, “Stop analysing me for once.”

Astoria rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the Witch Weekly balancing on her slightly protruding belly (a recent development she had to emphasise every chance she got). They were sitting in the waiting room of St Mungo’s maternity ward, waiting to see a midwife for Astoria’s twenty-week check-up. It was the first one Draco attended, having run out of excuses for not to go. Usually, her mum and sister accompanied her, but she had insisted that he’d join her today. He didn’t understand why he had to be to there, to be honest. Women, Muggle as well as magical, had been popping out babies since the beginning of time without all the fancy shite, like Healers and potions, and they certainly hadn’t needed the men holding their hands along the way. To add, he just couldn't understand why it was essential to Astoria to know the gender of the baby. Couldn't they wait until it decided to come out like it was meant to be?

Draco peered around the room to take his mind off things, but all he saw were pregnant women. At least a dozen of them. A few were looking in his direction, curious expressions on their faces, whispering to each other. Draco knew what they were bleating about, everyone knew him and what he had done and which side his father had been on during the war.

It could also be that he was the only man there, a poor sod lost in a sea of hormonal wenches.

Feeling sorry for himself but determined not to be too obvious about it, he continued to search the room. He recognised Granger, as big as a house, sitting by the door. All alone. A smug smirk crept up Draco’s face; it felt good to know that he was a more involved father-to-be than that orange Weasel she had married.

Unfortunately, Draco didn’t get to feel good about himself for too long because Ron Weasley chose that moment to rush into the waiting room, his Auror robes billowing behind him. It was as if the ginger git had sensed the Malfoy superiority. With his lips curled up in revulsion, Draco watched how Weasley flopped down into the chair next to Granger. After kissing her and apologising profusely for being late, he planted a freckled ear on Granger’s gigantic belly, whispering something or the other to it.

Draco turned to Astoria to tell how pathetic Weasley was acting but bit his tongue just in time. Astoria was watching the couple with a wistful smile. It made Draco feel even worse. Was that kind of behaviour she expected from him?

Well, she could wait a long time for it then!

He turned his attention to his bopping knee, her hand on it still. They’d been shagging for years with no strings attached, and he for one had been quite content with that arrangement. Since Astoria was too proper and loyal to cat around, he always had the unspoken reassurance that she solely belonged to him without needing to make it official. Tying someone to the tarnished Malfoy name, especially someone so sweet and kind-hearted as she was had bothered him immensely. of course, being the bleeding heart she was, Astoria had disagreed profoundly with that self-deprecating notion because she saw 'the good' in him. Whatever that meant.

Then he got her up the duff.

He didn’t believe she had done it on purpose as his parents had implied; her shame and distress over it had been too real. Besides, she was a terrible liar, he would’ve seen right through her if she had.

_“I won’t force you to be a part of this child’s life, I won’t even name you as the father if that’s what you want. But if you leave now, you cannot ever come back.”_

He had almost taken her up on that offer but changed his mind minutes before his International Portkey was to take him to the Bahamas where he had planned to stay until the whole thing went away. He’d come to the conclusion that if there was going to be a new Malfoy wandering the earth anyway, he was going to do his utmost best to make the kid became a better person than his father and grandfather before had ever been.

It took a bit of persuasion, but eventually, Astoria had agreed to marry him, much to the chagrin of her parents and sister. And now, with a few months before the baby’s arrival, they were going to find out if it was going to be a Cassiopeia or Scorpius -Astoria needed a little more convincing on the latter since she preferred a more traditional name for a son.

Draco’s throat clenched. He couldn’t deny it any longer after today. It was about to become real, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready.

What if he mucked it all up and the kid turned out to be a bigger wanker than he was?

What if he hated him?

What if _he_ turned out to be a girl? What did he know about raising a girl? Girls were trouble, they came with a whole set of new things to worry about. What if he had a girl, and she came home with someone like him?

The idea made his chest constrict and hear heard himself gasp for air.

“You are, aren't you?” Astoria whispered. “You're about to have an attack.”

Denying it was useless. Besides Draco couldn’t answer her even if he wanted to. Astoria started rubbing his back as he put his head down and closed his eyes. He tried to take deep breaths as she quietly talked, the sound of her voice washing over him. It made him feel like an utter tosser, but she never failed to soothe him. He would be forever thankful to her that last year of the war, at Hogwarts, she had sought him out because everyone else had loathed him. She had stuck by his side because she felt sorry, and later on because she had started liking him(he hoped).

Draco wasn’t proud of the fact that he may or may not have taken advantage of her back then (Daphne would probably say he had). But if he had, it hadn't been much, and he would've had his reasons for it (to keep her around). She was the remedy for his endless list of problems, the cure for his fucked-up-ness. She could tell him that he was the biggest, the most rotten arsehole in the world and he would still feel better because it came from her. Even back at school, the mere suggestion of losing her support had been unbearable.

The suffocating feeling subsided eventually, the urge to flee diminishing. Draco opened his eyes to look at Astoria. She was smiling softly -always so bloody understanding. See, she was mental. An utter, certified headcase. She had to be, a sane person wouldn’t willingly put up with him and his parents.

Finally, the door to the back opened. A woman in pink robes stepped out. “Astoria Malfoy? The midwife is ready for you.”

He couldn't run now even if he wanted to.

Why did he feel like life, as he knew, was about to end?

* * *

 

“Any dizziness? Nausea perhaps?”

Draco groaned at the barrage of questions the midwife asked. Astoria lay propped up on the exam table, shooting angry glares at him at each huff and groan that escaped his lips. Honestly, this was him trying, what else did she want.

“Mrs Malfoy?”

“No, it stopped after my last visit,” Astoria answered with an edge to her voice.

“About time too,” Draco muttered. She'd been vomiting non-stop the first few months and could barely keep down tea, much less any real food. He probably lost ten pounds himself from having no appetite because of her retching.

“Any other issues you can think of? Any cramping or spotting? Any contractions?”

Draco curled up his nose and shuddered. Honestly, couldn’t they keep it wizard appropriate? It earned him another withering glare.

“No, erm, a bit, spotting a few weeks ago but it didn't long. My mum said it was normal. Nothing else, I think.”

Draco perked up at hearing that. She hadn’t told him that she wasn’t feeling well.

The midwife nodded as she scribbled something on her clipboard. “Have you felt the baby move?”

Astoria hesitated, a tinge of panic in her expression that nearly sent Draco into a tailspin. If she was panicking, there was no way he’d be able to hold it together. He was next to her in a heartbeat, gripping her hand tightly.

“Am I supposed to?” she asked.

“Not necessarily, don’t worry,” the midwife replied. “You should start feeling it soon. This is your first pregnancy, I see. Don't worry, it can take a bit longer.”

“Oh, good to know,” Astoria mumbled as she lied down, the relief in her voice evident.

“Well, everything looks and sounds wonderful,” the midwife stated as she kept on scribbling. When she was done, she looked up from her clipboard. “Do you have any questions for me?”

Both of them turned to Draco expectantly, but he quickly shook his head. He just wanted to get this over with.

“No, I’m good. Can we see him now?”

* * *

 

“You alright there, mate?”

Draco blinked a few times before he realised that the voice was actually talking to him. He tore his eyes off the photograph in his hands and looked up. Astoria was still waiting by the midwife’s desk, engrossed in a conversation with Granger. It looked as if they were comparing notes, the swots.

But if his wife and Granger were there, that meant that the person talking to him was…

“Weaselbee,” Draco curtly greeted the man sitting next to him. They were practically strangers, other than an unfortunate incident with a raging Fiendfyre long time ago, they had absolutely nothing in common. Not knowing what else to say, he turned his attention back to the photograph.

He had heard his child’s heartbeat. He had cried just as hard, maybe even harder than Astoria, at seeing the ghostlike projection hovering over her belly move. The midwife had pointed out every limb, the beating heart, and had counted ten fingers and toes with them. All that, and he hadn’t died. The world hadn’t collapsed around them. Life went on, and he was still scared out of his wits. His head hurt at the thought of the conversation he had to have with his father. There were expectations that came with their family name, and birthrights to sort out.

At least, the baby was in perfect health and cooking right on schedule.

“So, what are you having?” Without waiting for an answer, Weasley shoved print of their sonogram under Draco’s nose. “We’re having a boy. Hermione was sure it’d be a girl, had a name picked out and all. Now we need to come up with new names. She’ll probably pick some fancy name she read in a book somewhere. But I don’t care. He’s healthy, that’s all that matters. So, what are you having?”

Draco glanced from Ron to Astoria, who was animatedly chatting with Granger, and back again. He was tempted to get up and walk away, dragging Astoria along if he had to. But it had been a long time since he’d seen her so chatty like that. Most of her friends had turned their backs on her when her relationship with Draco became public, and he knew she was feeling lonely lately. Who was he to ruin her moment for her?

Well, if she could put up with the annoying know-it-all, he surely could have a conversation with Weaselbee without the need to hex someone. Channelling his inner Astoria, Draco congratulated him, it came out easier than anticipated and held up his own black-and-white-print of the sonogram.

“We’re having a girl, the first one born into the Malfoy line in- Merlin, I don’t know in how many generations. It's- it's rather daunting.” Draco swallowed hard. For a minute, he expected another panic attack. The last thing he wanted was for Weasley to see him gasping for air, or curl up like a baby on the floor sobbing in agony because Astoria wasn’t there to talk him through it. But none of that happened.

His chest constricted, true, but that was because his heart swelled in pride. A daughter. They were going to have a girl, as sweet and wise as her mother, as cunning as her father, and as fierce and spirited as her aunt. She’d be the clean slate his family needed.

“I can’t wait for her to arrive.”

* * *

 

**Fin**


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